


In flagrante

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 15:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4397066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were fucking in the back section of the office when Skinner knocked on the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In flagrante

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: S7  
> A/N: The first few lines of this lingered for many months in my Google Docs. Time to set it free.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

They were fucking in the back section of the office when Skinner knocked on the door, Scully up on the counter with her skirt rumpled over her hips and her shoes still on, Mulder with his shirt half-unbuttoned and his pants around his ankles, lunging into her as she dug her fingers into his back and murmured his name. 

It was clearly Skinner just from the knock: distinctive, authoritative taps, like he was entitled to be there. Mulder froze, still deep inside her. Scully buried her face in his hair. Lipstick smears would be easier to hide in his dark hair than on the collar of his white shirt.

"Mulder?" Skinner said. "Scully?"

They tried to breathe shallowly. Mulder shifted slowly and Scully whimpered. He raised his eyebrows at her and she shrugged. It couldn't be more obvious that they were doing what they were doing. Scully was flushed and mussed and smudged. Mulder had wide, dreamy eyes and dust on his dress pants and he was wearing half of Scully's lipstick. They couldn't extricate themselves from each other without making enough noise that Skinner would know they were there, and there wasn't any other good excuse for concealing their presence from their superior. 

Skinner knocked again. 

"Master key?" she mouthed.

He nodded. 

She tightened her lips in wry frustration. Mulder tried again to move, but Scully's gasp began to slide toward a moan and he stopped.

Skinner tried the doorknob. A momentary look of panic crossed Mulder's face. Scully narrowed her eyes at him. But the knob just rattled. The door stayed shut. They had remembered to lock it. They both let out a sigh of relief. 

For a long moment, they could hear Skinner fidgeting outside the door. Briefly, they thought they heard the jingle of keys. Scully closed her eyes. It looked like she was praying. Mulder leaned closer, keeping his hips steady, and she caught her mouth with his, drawing him into a long kiss. He melted into her, his thumb stroking her hip, although he was still listening for the door. 

Outside the door, finally, they heard the scuff of Skinner's shoes as he walked away, muttering to himself. Scully slipped her hand around the back of Mulder's head and kissed him even more deeply. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, asking a thousand questions he wanted to answer all at once. He thrust into her slowly and then faster, letting her moan into his mouth. She clutched at his head. He let his hands slip from her hips to her ass, pulling her even closer. She wrapped her legs around him. He could feel her body tensing; she was on the edge of letting go. He slipped a hand under the hem of her skirt and found her clit with two fingertips and she gasped against his lips.

"Yes," she said, "God, yes, Mulder." He stroked her gently and fucked her harder, and she tipped her head back. He kissed her throat as she panted helplessly, caught up in the crescendo of her own pleasure, and she came just as the phone rang, her loud moans punctuated by the electronic bell. She laughed and held him tight. 

"Don't stop," she said. "Mulder, don't stop." 

The sweet satisfaction in her voice as she said his name drove him over the edge. He came, thrusting into her desperately and then holding her close, his breath rasping into the hollow of her collarbone as the unbuttoned collar of her shirt poked his cheek. The phone was still ringing. He turned his head to glare at it and it finally stopped. 

"Nothing," he said, "can be that important."

"I'm sure Skinner just wants to dress us down about something," she said, stroking his hair. He caught her hand and kissed it.

"I like the way you dress me down better," he told her. 

"Me too," she said, with that secretive smile that drove him wild. 

"Lunch?" he said. "After we pull ourselves back together, of course."

She gave him a once-over and laughed. "We might need to go home and change at this rate. I'm not sure that shirt can be saved. Skinner will definitely know."

"Long lunch, then," he said easily, dampening paper towels at the sink and handing her one. "You've got some clothes at my place."

"Now I see where you get your reputation for brilliance," she said, cleaning herself and tossing the paper towel into the trash. He helped her down off the counter. 

"Stick around," he said. "Maybe I can really impress you."

"Lunch," she said firmly, readjusting her clothes and looking up at him in a way that promised deliciousness that had nothing to do with food.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and couldn't resist stealing one last kiss. 

"Lock the door," she said on her way out, turning over her shoulder to gaze at him. 

"Always do," he said, humming tunelessly as he followed her.


End file.
